Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned
by de-anon
Summary: Meme deanon   Gilbert catches Lovino enjoying potato chips.  Prumano


**Finally de-anoning this on and dA. Tis just a fill that I wrote for the kink meme ages ago.**

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><p>No. This was all wrong. There was no way in hell that Lovino Vargas would ever eat anything even remotely related to potatoes—at least not on purpose. But there he was, standing in his kitchen in the early morning, half a potato chip crumbled between his fingers while the other hand dug through the contents in the bag. The crunch of the chip was pleasant and the salt made Lovino crave more. He knew he should stop. Repent, even, dropping to the floor on his knees while grease-saturated fingers tainted his Rosary and prayers rolled from a mouth made unholy.<p>

But he couldn't stop. He had told himself that he would stop after one—to prove to Gilbert that they were disgusting—but the minute the flavor had burst over his tongue he was hooked, like some crack addict. It had taken all his will-power to shove the bag back at Gil last night, verbally abuse him and the chips, and then climb upstairs to brush his teeth solidly for ten minutes. And yet, the memory lingered long after Gil had dragged him to bed and held him through the night. He had snuck back down an hour before sunrise when he knew Gilbert would have no chance of waking up and catching him.

The Italian felt dirty, like a teenager who was watching porn in his basement with the door unlocked and parents prowling upstairs. But it gave him a tiny thrill to look over his shoulder for Gilbert—who probably had Lovino/potato senses—though every little creak or movement in the otherwise still flat made him tense.

Lovino allowed himself a deep breath and shoved another handful of chips into his mouth. I-it wasn't like they were _real_ potatoes anyway. They'd been over-processed and fried and chocked full of fat. Yeah. There was no way this could count toward eating that most hated vegetable. He smirked a bit. Plus, there was no way in hell Germany ate potato chips, so he was safe—

"L-Lovino…what the hell are you doing up so early?" In stumbled Gilbert, half awake and desperately rubbing his eyes against sunlight that had just begun to spill in through the opened kitchen window. It took Gilbert a minute to process just what was happening—and a moment more to assure himself that this wasn't a dream. A smirk spread out of his lips.

Lovino yelped and thrust the bag behind his back. "I-it's no—I was—I was uh—" Colour exploded into his cheeks.

Cackling, Gilbert took a step towards him. Lovino took a step backwards.

"I-it's not what it looks like, dammit. I was…j-just throwing them out the window s-so fuck off!" He took another step backwards, but the edge of the counter halted his retreat. The Italian's eyes darted toward the door into the sitting room, but Gilbert stepped forward and cut off his escape route.

"No, seriously." Gilbert said. He grabbed Lovino's elbow and yanked his arm from behind his back. "You were seriously eating chips at 6 in the morning. Wow. Just wow, Lovino."

"N-no, I was throwing them out the window, you damn assumption-making potato-eating bastard!" He tried to wrench his arm free, but the Prussian only tightened his grip.

"Nein, you're not fooling anyone. But doesn't this make you a potato bastard as well?" Gilbert murmured. That grin widened and his eyes filled with smug amusement.

"H-hell no—"

Gilbert pried open Lovino's fist and ran his tongue up his fingers for the salt and the grease.

"Stop tha—"

The Prussian ignored him, sucking at each digit til Lovino groaned and the bag fell from the hand still pinned behind his back.

"You basta—"

Gilbert smirked from around his hand but released him and wiped at a trail of saliva. "Admit it, Lovino." He leaned forward, eyes intent, til his lips were inches from the Italian's. "Admit that you were eating potatoes. I can smell them on your breath."

Putting an effort into not breathing, Lovino shook his head though his heart pounded wildly in his chest. "H-hell no."

Gil closed the gap, roughly invading his mouth and tasting all he wanted. "Hmm, but you certainly taste like potato chips, Lovino." He went in for a second kiss, smirking against Lovino when he heard the other moan. He continued on like this for some time, until the Italian wrenched his head to the side to gasp for air.

"F-fine, you bastard."

Gilbert's eyes lit up. "Fine what?"

"I-I was eating potato chips, dammit—b-but it isn't any of your business."

"Admit that you liked them." Gilbert said. He reached down for the bag and shook it. "My bag is half empty."

"F-fine. M-maybe I did—"

All at once he felt the pressure of Gil against him slacken as the other laughed uproariously and poked his reddening cheek. "Keseseseseseee, you're so cute, Lovino!"

"F-fuck you."

"Maybe later~" Gilbert said, waggling the bag under the flustered Italian's nose. "First I've gotta give West a call and tell him the good news! Maybe I'll tell Italy too while I'm at it!" He smirked then took off for the living room and cleared the couch in one leap.

"GET THE FUCK BACK HERE." Lovino yelled, lunging after him.

Gilbert's shin hit the glass coffee table not two paces away from where he handed and he tumbled over it, upsetting magazines and candles, but he scrambled to his feet and staggered up the stairs, still cackling as an infuriated Lovino gave chase.


End file.
